


forcing our smiles for the airwaves (when neither of us are okay)

by hanpuffs (akabanes)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 90s au babey!!, Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, binsung, dysfuctional families, i am also an avid supporter of the jisung lip ring campaign yes, i too want to be run over by spike spiegel's spaceship, it was necessary for the plot but nothing explicit i swear, jisung is a spiegel boy and changbin is a misato man thank you, no beta we die like men, the b in lgbt stands for binsung, went into this with banana fish vibes but it's just gay and sad, will probably edit the rushed parts someday yeehaw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-27 05:04:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19783837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akabanes/pseuds/hanpuffs
Summary: in the spring of '97, two boys on the brink of adulthood share a cigarette, the static hiss of gritty rock music cutting through the wafts of air laced with nicotine. the sheets smell of sex, the smiles are pulled too taut and the eyes are hollow and void of galaxies.jisung is broken, he has been for the past three years. changbin knows this. yet they still tiptoe around each other in a macabre dance.jisung is hurting. changbin knows this all too well. (so why can't he stop this pain blooming in his heart?)seo changbin. han jisung. one marionette boy with gashes in his soul and the other, a wandering spirit with a heart held together with safety pins. maybe their bodies will collide the way more than just-friends do one day.(changbin just hopes jisung feels the same.)





	forcing our smiles for the airwaves (when neither of us are okay)

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! i'm nat and this is the first proper, full-length fic i've uploaded onto ao3 so i've no idea how the site works from a creator's perspective, please do forgive my inexperience. i also wrote out of order so if there's incomplete sentences pls tell me so i can fix them asap!
> 
> if the tags weren't helpful in clarifying the type of fic this is, it's a not-really-slow burn binsung fic heavily centered on friends with benefits and using intimacy as a coping mechanism (changbin has feelings haha loser) alongside watching reruns of cowboy bebop. i'd also like to clarify that apart from flashbacks/memories, binnie is 20 and sungie is 19 in this work!
> 
> thank you so much to the mods of jyp jukebox for organizing this event and being so accommodating as to extend my deadline due to heavy schoolwork plus the unwavering support of my awesome friend rey (@ maizonos on ao3) who has also participated in this event so be sure to check their work out too!!

_ joke me something awful / just like kisses on the necks of best friends / we're the kids who feel like dead ends / and I want to be known for my hits, not just my misses / I took a shot and didn't even come close / at trust and love and hope _

\- 'i've got a dark alley and a bad idea that says you should shut your mouth.'

if changbin had noticed the new mark splotched in burgundy blooming on jisung's neck, he ignored it. it was just another flower in the garden of muted blues and angry reds littered on his skin, the garden whose florets withered and new ones quickly sprouted up to take their place. it had been that way since the winter of jisung's sixteenth year, the fourth october that changbin had spent by jisung's side. 

(jisung had stumbled into their living space, flushed skin awash in the lingering smell of sweat, sex and sharp notes of alcohol that wafted easily into changbin's nostrils. had jisung not been inebriated enough, staggering over the spread of footwear strewn across the doorway, changbin probably wouldn't have given him a second glance. but his eyes flickered towards the boy, his lips parted to softly chide the younger for kicking over six pairs of shoes at ass o’clock despite both of them knowing changbin's bruised eyes never shut before the faint amber glow of the sun filtered through their window blinds, and the lecturing words died as they bubbled up his throat.

because jisung’s skin was littered with deep lavenders and angry reds, a violent beauty the same shade as the faint makeup smeared across his eyelids, his ripped sweater haphazardly shrugged onto his thin frame and bleary eyes wide yet unfocused. even in the dimness of their living room his tousled blonde hair formed a halo around his flushed face glistening in a visible sheen of sweat, only accentuating his tarnished fragility.

“ngh, binnie,” jisung’s raspy voice stuttered out in no more than a ghost of a whine, trembling fingers searching for a piece, any piece of changbin to grasp onto. the metal ring on his chapped lips glinted under the amber glow of changbin’s desk lamp, a startled gasp escaping his mouth as said boy numbly walked over and gingerly placed warm hands onto the other's small waist. 

"hyung's here," changbin mumbled, lacing his fingers with jisung's own, unsteady feet guiding the disoriented boy to the sanctuary of his room. "hyung's here." 

jisung didn't respond, but changbin saw his eyes widen before noticeably relaxing, easing his weight onto the older and lumbering towards his door. changbin gripped his clammy palm, inhaling the bitter warmth that radiated off him, releasing his hold as jisung unceremoniously sprawled on top of his comforter, head roughly thudding against his pillow and hands fumbling about before going limp. 

“bin… tired… ‘night,” he faintly caught a slurred mutter from the younger, a temporary sense of sobriety seemingly washing over him before his eyelids shut. his face no longer contorted by confusion and wariness, jisung’s smooth features were reminiscent of his youth, of an inquisitive child who recklessly lunged after thrills without scouring for consequences washed away by surging tides of adrenaline. changbin’s gaze raked over the younger’s defined jawline, the barely pudgy cheeks fitting of a small woodland creature and the porcelain milkiness of his skin at the juncture connecting his blemished neck and collarbone jutting out the frayed collar of his sweater - this myriad of savage beauty spotlighted by the shadows expected of a dusty murkiness at three in the morning enraptured the boy, seizing his breath and deepening the inclination to swathe jisung in intimate warmth and-

_ what was he thinking?  _

changbin couldn’t hear the steady sound of jisung’s muffled snores under the tumultuous thrumming of his constricted heart. his mind was turbulent, heart pounding noisily and changbin chalked it down to the nagging worry he always associated with the other and his reckless antics, though in the recesses of his mind he was overtly aware of what truly lay in his heart.

"you know we're going to talk about this in the morning, sung." changbin's voice was tinged with exhaustion and suddenly his smothering tiredness was engulfed in a blooming ache - his chest felt bruised and his lungs were asphyxiated, a stifling misery nestling into his fragile, hopeless heart that longed for something he could never have - for the lost boy drifting amongst luminous stars that flickered out compared to the ceaseless glint of mischief in his umber eyes. 

as changbin had expected, jisung had been all but lulled into a deep slumber and he received no reply to his demand. with the burden of a heavily intoxicated jisung off his shoulders - literally and figuratively, changbin’s eyelids fluttered irregularly, the ashen greyish blue shadows under his eyes prominent against his pallid complexion, sleep threatening to engulf him at any moment and his coursework abandoned. trudging back to his desk, nimble fingers drowsily sifted through the stack of papers with sloppy notes scrawled on them and the lamp flickered out.

  
  


when the dining table large enough to fit two spills over with pale sunlight, changbin does find jisung’s back hunched heavily over a cup of americano, blisteringly hot from the wisps of steam changbin sees, his eyebrows furrowed in apprehension, finger obliviously picking at the ring on his bottom lip and loose sweatshirt pooling around his thin wrists. 

changbin hadn’t realized how frail and vulnerable jisung appeared under the sunbeams trickling in, his withering frame threatening to collapse under the weakness of his weary bones. 

“hey, jisungie,” he chooses to initiate the imminent conversation looming over them.

jisung’s face blanches as the older walks closer in purposeful strides, trembling eyes darting around him, never truly meeting changbin’s stare. he fiddles erratically with his sleeve, mustering the most composed tone he can before replying, “a-ah, hyung. good morning.” he still can’t keep the slight waver out of his voice and he prays that changbin can’t discern his volatile disposition.

unfortunately, changbin’s astute nature hasn’t lost its luster.

“jisungie,” changbin’s tone is taking on a docile manner, but to jisung it feels as though a jagged blade had punctured his chest, a blistering guilt ripping through him. changbin would undoubtedly abhor him, he’d be looked at with thinly veiled scorn. he was nothing more than a dissolute brat who relied on sex for validation and satiate his lust for attention. he’d fucked up in a grandiose manner so egotistic that even the alcohol clouding his brain couldn’t make him forget. his parents were _right_ , he was a _disappointment_ and left _everything_ _broken_ in his wake-

“jisungie, look at me, please,” changbin’s pleading voice cuts through his self-deprecating trance, before his flustered mind registers the older cupping his cheeks with a tenderness he does not deserve. it’s only then that he is conscious of the bitter tears that had begun trickling down his face and into the coffee still grasped tightly with white knuckles and jittery fingers. 

“sungie, please,” changbin tries again in his empathetic manner that jisung knows will disservice his hyung’s altruistic nature one day and he feels the shame choke up his throat again and this time his voice quivers as he finally meets changbin’s gaze and is greeted by fondness awash in undisguisable relief, contrary to the glare rife with animosity jisung was anticipating.

“fuck, hyung, I’m so sorry… I can’t do anything but, but fuck up. guess I haven’t learned from the past,” jisung laughs mirthlessly, “keep involving hyung in my stupid, stupid mistakes and hyung keeps getting hurt and troubled because of me and I don’t know what to do. god, I’m so pathetic, aren’t I, hyung? always running after someone to patch up the void in me, letting someone broken wreck me too,” jisung is vaguely aware of changbin’s assurances spilling out of his mouth without hesitation but it feels as though he’s drifting underwater, a rush of nervousness coursing through his veins and a cacophony of static surging into his ears. jisung fiercely keeps his eyes trained on the numbing sunlight, in a bid to not cry deplorably, to not look at his hyung’s sympathetic gaze and sorrowful expression, as if shouldering responsibility for the destruction jisung had caused.

“I know that that’s a shitty thing to do, I fucking know that, but still… 

“I don’t know how else to feel whole again, hyung.”)

  
  


three years ago, seo changbin was foolish enough to let han jisung’s nimble fingers strum his maiden heartstrings like the younger’s favourite epiphone, and now his heart was swathed in the thorns of unrequited love with only himself to blame. 

changbin would be lying, delusional if he said he knew where their relationship lay. what they shared was something that was beyond mere friendship and still strayed from a conventional courtship. their bond teetered between insecurity and definitive constants, bordering on brotherhood and something beyond that. maybe it was a liaison, morals easily dismissed when hooded eyes rampant with lust met and swollen lips ghosted across exposed skin. when they would wake up, bodies intertwined and hands entwined atop the rumpled sheets, the debauchery was a trivial matter in their lives, nothing notable about these occasions because they knew that this very moment would repeatedly manifest itself in the future.

changbin never once lamented about this arrangement, even when the younger carelessly pulled him in and rousing promises left his mouth and changbin caught a whiff of air laden with heavy musk and driftwood, a new cologne changbin had never smelt on jisung before. changbin inwardly grimaced, noting how the hardy scent clashes with the invigorating lightness of saccharine apple lingering on the younger’s skin, almost jarringly so. he refrained from making a snarky remark, shelving this minute detail away in the recesses of his mind and simply reciprocated the chaotically mesmerising kiss. if jisung came back a hollow shell barren of his flirtatious persona, it was changbin’s obligation to fix him.

now they draped their arms over the greying concrete of the balcony of their shared apartment, the sony walkman balanced precariously between them and the tinny sound of the smashing pumpkins’ _ cherub rock  _ engulfing their shared silence in guitar chords and wavering voices. if this tranquility could have been captured in a film of polaroid, changbin would have sifted through the space between his mattress and battered bedsheet to grab the spare couple thousand won he’d hidden for emergencies (namely discounted cans of shitty beer or a box of cigarettes to temporarily null the temptation urging him to indulge in his vices) and brought back rolls of the costly stuff to fill with the blissful sentiment encapsulated in the tranquil stillness between them. 

and if jisung had noticed changbin reaching for yet another cancer stick to replace the one he'd just discarded, he ignored it.

  
  


seo changbin. han jisung. one marionette boy with gashes in his soul and the other, a wandering spirit with a heart held together by safety pins. maybe their bodies would collide the way more than just-friends do one day. 

(changbin hopes jisung feels the same.)

  
  


the summer of 1999 was flabbergastingly hot, june a brooding month of long days filled with stifling air and the rustle of trees accompanied by the incessant droning of cicadas in an orchestra indicative of the scorching season. seoul wasn’t immune to this sweltering heat spell, the controlled whirring of the overhead fan omnipresent in the background of changbin and jisung’s shared apartment. 

“I’m home,” changbin announced, shucking off his shoes and leaving his cap on the shoe cabinet, perspiration pooling down his spine as he basked in the coolness of the fan above him.

“ah, binnie hyung! welcome back,” jisung finally ripped his attention away from the signature mecha mess flickering vividly across the television screen. "how'd your day go? I thought I was gonna die, you know? the weather's too much for me and my poor skin," jisung whined, voice deliberately taking on a cloying tone.

"shut up, jisung. at the very least, you could have had the privilege of actually dissecting the utter clusterfuck that is the  _ evangelion _ ending instead of wondering if asphyxiation is a viable alternative to reading  _ crime and punishment _ ," changbin hissed without true malice rooted in his words. he was thoroughly convinced that university breaks were frauds, since they were only freed from the claws of chastising professors and whirlwind of assignments a week or so after the high school students. he had tolerated jisung’s swooning over vash the stampede then drooling over kaworu in rapid succession for six nights, so if he’d outwardly shown bitterness and implications of strangling his flatmate, he couldn’t be held entirely accountable.

"whatever. my question still stands. please enlighten me, university  _ sunbae _ ," jisung drawled the last words for emphasis, remaining unfazed as expected and simply turning his attention back to the episode still running on the screen. 

“chan and I had discourse over whether we should sample from the cure or the pumpkins for our next song. we talked too much shit so minho stepped in to diffuse the situation, as he always does,” changbin’s lips quirked up in fondness, all too familiar with his friends’ dynamics. the petty conflicts would sometimes devolve into expletives being flung at each other and minho would roll his eyes in exasperation before attempting to restore amity to their friendship. as their days usually ended with the three of them animatedly talking over greasily appetizing plates of sloppy joes and in their regular corner booth at the diner under chan’s block, changbin wasn’t exaggerating when he claimed minho could work miracles with his rational words.

"changbin hyung," jisung's voice snapped changbin out of his reverie, "do you think minho hyung is open to the idea of a threeso-"

"no," changbin bluntly dismissed jisung's question, having had the foresight to anticipate the younger trying to involve minho in their perplexing arrangement. "don't tell me you still are infatuated with him, that phase was like four years ago. besides, he's got a sense of morality and isn't that type of thrill seeker."

"I told you myself, didn't I? he's too gentle with everyone and everything, he wouldn't last throttling me for more than three seconds. I'm not a superb match for him," jisung mused as he was distracted by pen-pen's ostentatiously comedic entrance. "also, yes, I am very much aware that my moral compass is a fucking roulette wheel. and what about it?"

changbin could rattle off a bombardment of retorts he conjured up on a whim, but before he could, jisung's eyes widened with an intensity only jisung could possess. "oh, hyung! I forgot to mention, I linked with someone on instant messenger," jisung off-handedly informed, nonchalant as if he were talking about the weather.

"mmm, that's nice. who's he?" changbin had lumbered into the pantry in search of the forgotten box of stale cornflakes that he'd only cared enough to remember as he fiddled with his pen halfway through advanced maths class.

“his name’s woojin, was incredibly eager to meet someone online. a new experience, he said, though it certainly didn’t deter him from plunging deep into the notion of a tryst of sorts,” jisung smirked proudly at the prospect of snagging yet another person who’d fallen for his endearing antics. it was deceptively easy to be enraptured by the younger’s charms and his wiles, his contagious furor contagious enough to infect those around him. “his mannerism of using cute kaomojis is a huge contrast from what he’s packing down south, if you know what I mean,” jisung let out a silvery giggle, face appalled and eyebrows arching as though he was the scandalized virgin both he and changbin knew he wasn’t. 

“I see.” changbin’s inwardly winced at how closed off and stringent his voice sounded, grating against his own ears. why couldn’t he just acquiesce, albeit half-heartedly, that jisung was not his, he was no one’s, for the younger was far from an ornate trinket to be taken ownership of? why did changbin’s heart insist on remaining infatuated with the same boy who’d sauntered into his life with a lopsided grin too wide to be real and a heart too delicate to touch? "well, he seems intriguing, so good luck."

"yep, thanks hyung!" jisung flashed a blinding smile.

he didn’t miss the taut, overly eager grin slip from jisung’s face, teeth gnawing at his lip ring - a nervous habit changbin had seen materialize two years prior, the practised glint of mischief and dimming into melancholy when he thought changbin had turned away. but no matter how many times changbin had caught glimpses of jisung’s anguish he kept veiled behind a rambunctious persona, he never once indicated that he knew the air of optimism around the boy was merely a farce. to changbin, the fear of losing jisung was multitudes greater than the twinge of guilt he felt seeing the younger in his weakest moments.

  
  


seo changbin is observant, had always been discerning since youth, more than his daunting leather-clad frame and slouching shoulders would let on upon first impressions. changbin’s intuition has been whittled down to a degree of invasive accuracy, a trait that enabled him to garner an opinion of others at blistering speed. his confidence in determining a person’s behaviour was unwavering, a mere critical glance and changbin could subsequently file a person into his sphere of acquaintances, write them off as irritating. 

(perhaps, changbin was  _ too  _ percipient. maybe the innocuous curiosity in his eyes etiolated into vague impassivity when he witnessed the glow of his father’s pallid complexion and a shimmering interest in his washed-out eyes that barely swept over changbin’s existence with mild irritation that only manifested when talking to the pretty lady with a silvery laugh whose earnest expressions might have mirrored faces his mother could have made ten years prior.

perhaps changbin learned to fuse cynicism with his observations the day he rattled off complaints of hearing resonating creaks and pained gasps at night, when she was delegated to gruelling late-night shifts at work.

changbin remembers now, an eight-year-old kid smiling cheekily and carelessly telling his mother that maybe she’s his guardian angel because “the weird noises stop when you’re around!” 

maybe, just maybe, if he hadn’t uttered those words with such conviction and gullibility still being nurtured in his young skull, there’d be three people in the musty photo frames scattered around the house instead of the two with a weary air that he had grown accustomed to. if he hadn’t been so naive, would the illusion of the righteous red string of fate be upheld by his parents?

changbin, contrary to widespread belief and the unfounded concerns of his two confidants - his upperclassman, chan, who was an admirable producer with little thought to spare on his welfare and generous to a fault; minho, a charismatic classmate with ambitions as demanding as his dancing ability - was not incapable of forming lasting relationships, he simply refused to let anyone who left as much as a waft of foul taste in his mouth peer into his personality beyond a tight-lipped smile and lavishing their egoism with empty compliments he had niftily picked up on from his mum’s gushy conversations with greasy clients.

enter an enigma, an anomaly changbin had never encountered in his secluded life in the form of a scrawny twelve-year-old who clung to the stitches of chan’s hoodies and had unruly tufts of dark hair. as changbin peered at the boy, who upon chan’s request had blurted out his name - han jisung from class 2c - with his words tripping over each other, whose eyes were bright with a light of uncertainty and childlike curiosity now foreign to changbin. the disparity between the scintillating interest in his irises and the hollow smile plastered across his tense face was glaringly conspicuous, but how ironic it was that this facet of jisung’s nature was what ensnared changbin’s attention. 

han jisung was not brought up to be sociable, yet the way he carried himself was far from demure, his eyes defiant and brazen with an inquisitiveness that seemed to pry into changbin’s heart. a candied voice laced with initial bashfulness that chipped away to an underlying vivacious nature. changbin witnessed the younger’s secluded attitude metamorphose into enthusiasm, breezy laughter and spirited words easily slipping from his lips, watched as the boy grew into defined features and a taller, slender frame. 

even when the younger’s arms were littered with lilac half-moons and olive discolourations that he hesitated to explain and he showed up with wrists encircled in burgundy blemishes and gauze haphazardly skewed on his tiny neck, changbin couldn’t bring himself to stray from the damaged boy whose wounds spoke of nothing but abuse and discord.

that would be how han jisung became one person changbin granted second chances to, as well as many more beyond that.

  
  


“it just occurred to me. hyung’s a bit of a prude, no?” jisung’s abrupt declaration disrupted the comfortable stillness awash in the golden light of the ebbing sunset. “I mean, it’s the holidays for god’s sake, would it kill you to act your age instead of a greasy grandfather? you’re barely my hyung and yet here I am escorting you to all your interactions with literally any human, chan, minho and I aside.” 

the older, draped lethargically across the yellowed armchair, fatigued gaze sliding towards jisung as he gripped a novel carelessly, a drained groan serving as his response. “if I don’t explain why dostoevsky was an esteemed man divergent from the social constrictions of his time in the span of two pages, the professor will personally decapitate me. then you’ll never see hyung’s beautiful complexion ever again,” changbin drawled sardonically, eyes drifting back to the pages centimeters from his weary eyes.

“that would be a shame,” jisung readily agreed, adopting a tone so contemplative that changbin was bewildered at how easily he’d unravelled his stubborn plans before his perplexion dissociated into dismay as the younger chirped, “unfortunately, hyung, in the words of the icon himself, ‘frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn’. we’re getting piss drunk and transcending dimensions of consciousness tonight! you need to feel the exhilaration of sin before you become an adult with actual responsibilities, hyung. my treat!” 

“with what money?” changbin shot back. “either way, I refuse to take advice from someone who spends their weekends rewinding the VHS recordings of  _ cardcaptor  _ \- no, don’t give me that look, don’t think I haven’t noticed the abrupt disappearance of the _ bebop _ taping too - at four in the bloody morning. the  _ very _ hollow walls aren’t soundproof at all, y’know,” changbin accused, a hint of amusement seeping into his voice when jisung attempted to deny his claims only to flush sheepishly when the older refuted.

“not my fault spike is so well-written and hot,” jisung feebly defended himself, cheeks still faintly tinted a rosy hue.

“if you think spike spiegel would give you a dicking to remember, that’s valid,” changbin begrudgingly caved into the younger’s ethos, an acquired taste for sinfully attractive anime men who were rough around the edges. “unfortunately, that doesn’t offer any sense of credibility to your advice. all I’ve learned is that you’re attracted to bounty hunters who radiate masculinity,” he snorted.

“hey! bin hyung, that’s  _ space _ bounty hunters to you. I have standards, y’know?” jisung feigned offense as he explained, "the extraterrestrial element spices them up! anyway hyung, I still don't see how my innate desire for spike spiegel to crush me with his spaceship makes my advice void-”

“now you’re just taking the piss.”

“personally, I reckon my dauntless admission of my taste in men only adds to my reputable advice,” jisung tactfully ignored changbin’s scoff. “back to my main point. you gotta spice things up a little, hyung! no idea why you’d hole yourself up digging through your  _ bebop _ rerun tapes and coo over an animated dog with this face to show off,” changbin tried not to let any surprise or flattery materialize on his face at the sudden compliment that sent a shuddering warmth throughout his body, letting the fact that jisung had overheard or witnessed him admire ein’s adorable antics slip.

“jisung, in moments like these I would sell you for one vinegar chip.”

“too bad hyung, you’re stuck with yours truly!” jisung smiled triumphantly, palms settling comfortably on changbin’s shoulders, with steady confidence in his dominance over the older’s actions. “now run along now, the doors to the bar three blocks away open at eight sharp. wouldn’t want to miss the first dance now, would we?” 

with a roll of his eyes and persistence from jisung for him to “dress nicely, hyung, like you’re trying to get fucked”, changbin assessed the array of cosmetics strewn across jisung’s small vanity beside his desk and the heaps of colour in the wardrobe. grappling unsurely with the products and sifting through what constituted appropriate ‘late night, totally not an irregular client being forced to venture into the wilderness under strobe lights and blaring bass’ clothes. 

“whoa, hyung! I wasn’t being completely serious about you dressing up to get laid tonight but you clean up well,” jisung noted appreciatively, gesturing vaguely to the sheer silken material of the shirt changbin had shrugged on, a harness to accentuate the sensuality and attention his attire commanded. changbin frustratedly carded his fingers through stiff, slicked back hair, “if you’re gonna continue to act like that, I’m changing,” he threatened. thankfully, jisung attempted to appease him after that, lame flattery deflecting off changbin every time.

at ten o’ clock, changbin found himself perched on a barstool with his third iced water of the night, eyes boredly sweeping over the hordes of patrons swarming the dance floor. jisung’s banter had died down shortly after they entered the area, the boy himself slinking off to indulge in his vices shortly after. drumming his fingertips atop the cool marble of the bar table, he patiently waited for jisung to enjoy his fill before hauling his blissed out ass back to their flat.

suddenly, in a secluded corner of the room dyed a fluorescent red, changbin saw familiar doe eyes turned upwards in interest, jisung’s lips roughly captured by the person donning a crisp, dull gray business suit and slim waist manhandled roughly by a large hand, jisung was clutching a half-downed glass of beer in his right hand and changbin watched, his insides convoluting from the resentment he harboured towards the man who had piqued jisung’s interest, as the businessman’s free hand inched down and closer to jisung’s body and then- changbin squinted, unsure if his vision was deceptive, as he witnessed the sleazy man drop a coin-sized tablet into the beverage, initially fizzing before dying out. 

similarly, hatred bubbled relentlessly within him as he realized that jisung was at risk of becoming another statistic amongst bar victims, the bastard dared lay his unsophisticated, heavy fingers on jisung and had the audacity to try and fucking drug a kid.

changbin marched up with baseless confidence and addressed the stranger. “good evening, sir. I hate to get in the way of pleasure, but my friend and I have lost track of time and simply can’t afford to stay. I’ll be stealing him now so please, have an enjoyable night,” changbin simpered, resentment prominently dripping off every syllable as he laced his fingers with jisung’s own and escorted him out with tenacious strides.

jisung let out a dazed squeak, followed by noises of confusion and protest morphing into perplexed ire as he bafflingly looked to changbin for an explanation. the latter simply turned his eyes onto the younger, wordlessly pulling on his thin wrist and dragging him back home.

“changbin! what the fuck was that?” jisung demanded indignantly as he watched changbin kick off his shoes.

“that’s my goddamn line, jisung. he was taking advantage of you, trying to slip some sketchy shit into your glass! be more aware of the people you try to hook up with, will you? at least have some qualms about their reliability and trustworthiness, you’ll end up in some deep shit without such cautionary measures,” changbin’s fretfulness grew tenfold while jisung’s irritability rose proportionally.

“I don’t recall having ever asked for your interference, my romantic affairs don’t concern you to such a great extent,” jisung countered hotly.

“well, maybe if you’d stop fucking every person who dotes on you no matter how miniscule the attraction is and pleading them for something more in such a futile manner, you’d be better at holding on to people who wouldn’t backstab you on a whim!” 

the deafening silence was stifling, but changbin felt the stinging slap before he registered the poison coating the words he had just uttered and acidic bile rising up his strained throat that he choked down as his eyes trained the floor with remorse.

hand recoiling from the impact of the slap, jisung shot him a venomous glare, hardened eyes unyielding, cracking voice swelling with hostility, a far cry from the honeyed tone changbin had grown accustomed to. 

“I hate you, seo changbin.” he could hear the hastening pace of distancing footsteps and the door quavered under the force jisung had slammed it shut with.

though he heard the trembling cries and thundering steps fade, changbin didn’t follow him.

  
  


changbin’s night was sleepless, the number of cancer sticks in his wrinkled box dwindling briskly and uneasiness exponentially growing as he wistfully scrutinized the stars spilled across the canvas of the night sky, wishing fervently that one of them would bring jisung home.

  
  


the landline rang at approximately seven minutes past eight in the morning, a gravelly voice in lightly accented korean resounding through the phone, “good morning. may I speak to a seo changbin?”

“you got him here,” changbin drowsily affirmed, sluggishly toying with the cord of the receiver, tangled from disuse.

“perfect. this makes my job so much less of a hassle,” the stranger exhaled heavily. “ah, apologies. I’m lee felix, one of han jisung’s acquaintances from accounting class. jisung is currently still delirious on my couch and as amusing as I think his manic recounting of stories involving you are, I’ve got an appointment at a part-time job in a bit and he’s got enough sense to hobble over to the liquor shelves and ingest enough alcohol to poison an elephant but lacks the common sense to abstain - no jisung, I’m not calling your mother, neither of us are ecstatic over her existence - sorry, but could you take him home?”

changbin suppressed his annoyance towards his flatmate for inconveniencing his friend, deciding that he could chastise him after this incident died down, choosing to let the relief he felt consume him for the better. 

“of course. give me your address and I’ll be over immediately.”

  
  


jisung looked debauched and rumpled when lee felix opened the door. the latter was sincere enough, profusely apologizing for bothering changbin so early in the morning and offering a cup of iced coffee in the future as compensation. changbin peered over the taller’s shoulder, seeing a familiar figure emerge from the room on unsteady legs. 

“ooh, lixie! do we got a guest? awesome!” jisung's words were slurred, teetering on the brink of incoherence, his clouded eyes glassy as he stared into changbin's own eyes without truly seeing the older. 

“if my parents - no, if changbin-hyung could see me now, what would he say?” his panic abruptly dissolved, seemingly replaced by a frenzied laughter that rendered changbin helpless, could only watch as the boy before him succumbed to manic amusement. “hyung’s too fucking nice, he never thrusts the blame onto others and doesn’t antagonize those who have previously. I tell him, I always tell him that he’s an idiot and to be more wary, less trusting of others. the world’s cruel, in a cutthroat society that guileless kindness will be preyed upon,” a fit of hiccups interrupted his tirade, “and I’m the pretentious piece of shit who manipulated it, who manipulated hyung. I’m the mayhem he should have abandoned and left in the wreckage of a broken home, I wouldn’t blame him. I can’t blame hyung for anything ‘cause this shit! it’s all my fuckin’ fault,” jisung blubbered miserably, pain-stricken face burying itself into the pillow, vaguely honing a scent that was distinctly warm and changbin’s - ambrosial cinnamon with a hint of clove - as the tremors died down and he fell into a dreamless slumber.

jisung's voice crumbled from its quivering crescendo and so did changbin's heart as the fragments of jisung shattered before him and changbin simply held this broken boy in steadfast walls of silence minutely rippled with his silent, wrecked sobs. the younger finally spoke in a voice so defeated and quiet that changbin would have missed it had they not been shrouded in stillness.

“I've always depended on the kindness of strangers and it seems that tonight is no different.” 

  
  


as sobriety and a splitting headache penetrated jisung’s consciousness, his sore eyes darted around in confusion and his limbs felt as though they were weighed down with metal. the comforter draped on top of him was too woolen to be felix’s and the mattress was firmer than he remembered. however, the bloated munchlax in his peripheral gave him the indication he needed to know that he was in changbin’s room, with only disjointed fragments of memories as to how he got here. he clambered to his feet, clutching his head to soothe some of the nausea that had crept up on him, nearly stumbling over in his urgency to leave.

“please, jisung… stop running.” changbin’s voice was hoarse, grating like sandpaper, said boy reaching out a gentle hand to deter jisung from the door.

“I’m sorry, it’s all I know how to do, hyung!” jisung’s voice was on the brink of hysteria, hands in a frenzy as he tried to ward changbin away from him. “I fucked up badly, I understand if you see me as a lesser person from now on.”

changbin shook his head. 

“please, just stay and hear me out. jisung-ah, there’s no way I’d ever despise you, even if you brought about the annihilation of the human race I’d still be on your side because I’ve loved you for four fucking years, han jisung.”

a stunned silence swept over the two of them, jisung gaping and truly stupefied. changbin had negligently let his hastiness to talk get the better of him again, he was no better than the eight-year-old boy who’d wrecked three lives with an innocent sentence. but he rattled on, too impassioned to skid to a halt.

“I’ve loved so profoundly, my heart feels as though it’s eroding every time I hear someone else’s name on your lips. when you regard someone else with so much affection and earnest adoration that I could only ever envisage in my mind it feels as though I’ve been overcome with a fit of jealousy so ugly it’d rear its head and scare you away. I was never audacious enough to definitively confess and be selfish for once, so I never told you.

“yet I know a scum’s wish doesn’t deserve to come true. I marred the skin of the boy I loved, bruised his vulnerable soul like the piece of shit I am, I fucked up my whole family’s happiness, I was the root of so many dysfunctional relationships... tell me, do scum like me really deserve happiness?” changbin’s voice plummeted from its hysterical frenzy, collapsing into a question barely above a whisper. a bitter hotness pricked at the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill down his face. 

he was drowning in fear and insecurity, barely registering jisung’s finger tentatively cupping his jaw, tilting his heavy head upwards to blearily meet the younger’s eyes. where changbin had expected revulsion, animosity and empty pity in jisung’s irises, he was instead faced with confusion overridden by what changbin could best identify as guilt and anguish. the other boy remained uncharacteristically quiet, the lingering silence almost overwhelming before the warm touch withdrew and changbin saw his taut lips tremble and that light touch was replaced by a crushing embrace, the warmth radiating off jisung enveloping changbin’s entire body.

“‘m sorry- hyung, I didn’t know you felt this way. god, I’m so fucking sorry, ‘m an idiot who can’t express jack shit with his feelings,” jisung mumbled, clutching at the older with desperation, his own voice brimming with emotion. “I thought hyung- I thought you’d hate me for sleeping around, maybe you would finally realize how damaged and used I am, how everyone else is right to call me a- a slut who fucks up everything and everyone. 

“but you- hyung, never gave up on me, even though I was so fucking self-indulgent, greedy for short-lived validation. even though I chased fleeting moments that were a cheap mockery of romance and hurt you in the process, you kept coming back for me even though I wasn’t worth a second of your time, didn’t deserve your love. I keep disappointing myself and those around me, what if fate has caught up to me and is punishing me for the sins and misleading rendezvous I’ve incited, what if you have mistaken crushing sympathy for misplaced love? I can’t bear to tell myself I’ve found happiness, then have it, have  _ you _ , ripped away from me.” 

“why,” changbin could feel jisung’s tears soaking the fabric of his shirt as the latter crumbled in his arms, “why did you choose to love someone as worthless as me?”

changbin pondered for a moment. “it’s simple. I followed my heart to guide me to my fated person.”

the rapid heaving of jisung’s chest, the tight thrumming of his heart clenching in time with his feverish sobs that slowly dissipated into quiet sniffles, roused a fire that seeped through his body and a rush of euphoria engulfed him as weak arms ensnared changbin in his hold. they stayed like that as the seconds drifted by, morphing into minutes, minutes possibly creeping into hours, as if their bodies were meant to envelop each other in devotion and it felt so right.

for the first time in years, changbin allowed himself to be held by someone he could love unconditionally. 

for the first time in years, changbin allowed himself to be selfish, to envision a happy ending for himself with jisung.

for the first time, changbin could allow someone to pick up the pieces of their brokenness with him. 

seo changbin. han jisung. one marionette boy with gashes in his soul and the other, a wandering spirit with a heart held together by safety pins. their bodies and bruised hearts collided with each other in the way lovers’ do, their deft fingers disentangling the frayed knots, ingrained anxieties embedded in their mentalities slowly dissipating. 

and this time, this time, they’d make sure the other would never slip out of their grasp again.

**Author's Note:**

> so that was my clusterfuck of a fic!! lmao i don't think any of that was salvageable and i've not written since 2017 weeb era oop- we made it babey, my kpop / skz fic debut yeehaw!! technically not the first i've started (since my series ft. minsung as part 1 has been in the making for like,,, 390 years) but definitely the first i've finished! hope there was at least some parts y'all found tolerable, mayhaps even decent?? i projected so much onto my bbies ayyy let's not look too much into what that entails haha
> 
> you can yell at me on twt @ 606ism i just churn out rts of skz content & i run a bujo instagram @ 3rachastudies though it's highkey kind of inactive soz


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